


A Furmidable Foe

by firelord65



Category: The Orville (TV)
Genre: Cats, Fandom Giftbox, Gen, Humor, Prompt Fill, shortfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-26 11:34:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20741534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firelord65/pseuds/firelord65
Summary: In which the Orville crew calls in backup to address an invasive species that's bested them.Or, the bridge gets a cat.





	A Furmidable Foe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gwenhwyfar1984](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gwenhwyfar1984/gifts).

No one had been terribly happy with the orders to visit one of the Retepsian colonies. The climate was horrible, the landing area small, and the wildlife still very much untamed. Plus there was that wonderful side effect of mentioning anything Retepsian got the Captain and Commander back at one another’s throats. There was no “good” solution to the situation, either. If Commander Grayson volunteered to be the one going planetside, the Captain got upset. If the Captain tried to play hardball in response to the over-the-top demands from their not-so-gracious hosts, Commander Grayson became particularly snippity. 

Still, an assignment from command was an assignment to be completed, no matter the degree of scathing remarks thrust about the bridge. Shuttles went back and forth. Cooperation was wrangled from all necessary people. And in the end the engineering corps yielded the confidential samples and research notes to the Orville crew as requested. 

Excellent. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief when the colony was reduced to a tiny green marble on the viewscreen. There had been no significant issues - barring the tension on the bridge - and delivering the classified intel would bring them within orbit of Earth just in time for the leaves to be changing in North America. In short, some shore leave would do everyone some good.

Life can never be so simple for so long, however. 

“Containment breach in storage bay four,” the ship’s computer announced with its usual blitheness midway through their trip. The Captain and the Commander shared a look. 

“Drop us out of quantum drive, Gordon,” Ed ordered. 

Kelly stood and gestured for Alara to do the same. “I’m assuming you want me to deal with this, Ed,” she said.

He pretended to think for a second before nodding sarcastically. “Uh, yeah. Unless you want me to get the computer to read back what you said about the containment field?”

The two women left the bridge. Ed twisted his head to continue his remarks. “Wait, wait, I don’t even think I need the computer. I’m pretty sure it was along the lines of ‘Don’t worry about it, Ed! There’s no way anything can get out. Even a super space rat from-’ oh and she’s gone.”

“Wait, they’re  _ rats _ ?” Gordon exclaimed. He swiveled his chair around. “Like big, fat, hairy suckers? Long tails? Beady li’l eyes?”

Ed hemmed and hawed. “I mean, they’ve got the tails,” he backpedaled. “Look, either way, I really don’t want them crawling around my ship.” 

\---

Everyone became rather adept at listening for the sound of scratching claws and skittering feet. Only three had slipped past Kelly and Alara, but the creatures were in fact the kind of super rat that lived for three things - eating, breeding, and scaring the shit out of any unsuspecting crewman just trying to access the maintenance shafts. In what seemed like a brash disobeyance of the laws of conservation of mass, they bred into a colony of twenty within just a few days. 

Containment fields were iffy. Plasma weapons were discouraged based on the irritable communications with the Retepsian scientists back at the colony. There was apparently a 50-50 chance that the plasma would just split the creature into copies. Alara suspected that was why there were so many, so quickly, already. 

Beyond the energy fields, they tried to set up traps. The bait was effective, but the trapping mechanism merely snapped on empty air - the rats were too good. It was Kelly who suggested the classic answer one day after Ensign Wolfe screamed bloody murder down the hallway from the bridge.

“We should get a cat.” 

Ed massaged his forehead. “We talked about this. If I can’t get a dog, then it’s really bullshit that you get a cat,” he replied. His joke didn’t hold any venom though. Everything was just tired from listening to scratching in the walls all night.

Kelly smacked him lightly with the back of her hand. “I’m being serious.”

The next Union encampment they passed by was more than happy to offload a basket of cats, a colony of mothers, fathers, and kittens that needed a good home. The mess hall got a burly coon. Many of the kittens got dispersed to the civilians on board to keep them from being underfoot in the high-stress areas. And the bridge selected a handsome orange shorthair that only narrowly avoided being named Garfield by the grace of Issac not understanding the reference and instead giving the winning vote for Boots. 

Boots liked his namesake. He would wind his way between people’s feet whether they were sitting, standing, or walking. Boots was also a damned good mouser. At the mere whisper of scaled feet on the floor, he would go into hunting mode. Uniforms were no match for his claws, and many of the bridge officers regretted letting him sit on their laps only for him to careen off of his perch in a flurry of claws, fur, and fury.

Which isn’t to say that no one enjoyed getting a visit from Boots. He had a bed against the back wall that he remained rooted to for the first week or so. During that time, his focus was solely on remaining vigilant for any sign of the retepsian rats. 

The first person to gain the cat’s trust had been Kelly and mostly out of pure determination. Her constant vying for Boots’ attention had irked Bortus in particular, so it was surprising to everyone when he was the next person to earn the right to hold Boots without the cat squirming to escape. 

From then on it became a fiercely contested right of passage. Gordon set up an array of catnip toys by the front consoles to secure the next Boots seal of approval. LaMarr benefited from that until he was spirited away to Engineering. Down there was a pair of siamese girls that not only protected the delicate wiring but could purr at just the right frequency to match the drives. 

But Boots was special simply because he was the bridge cat. Others might have suggested that the twins or the mess hall beast were more favored. They were, in a word, wrong. 

Boots had his own bed elevated off the floor -  _ in case the chill is too much though the stuffing _ . Boots had gourmet, unsynthesized snacks -  _ the right way to feed a small animal _ . And Boots had his own tiny ensign rank insignia on his collar -  _ made out of fish bones so it was clear to be in jest, not earnesty, Issac _ . 

The only troubles came during red alert. The sudden change in lights, noise, and stress level did not agree with the poor cat. He'd startle up whoever's leg was closest. That wasn't an issue for, say, Issac or Bortus. Much more of a problem when it was the Captain or any of the other equally squishy humanoids. Sick bay had put up a rather unamused sign listing "non-critical animal wounds" as something to be handled by the department supervisor. 

It also hadn't gone well last time when Admiral Halsey had rang up for a routine report and spotted Boots in the chair and Kelly standing behind him. "He needs to be up high to catch the rats off guard," Kelly had bluffed. The Admiral didn't take to the chain of command being usurped by an orange furball. 

When the retepsian scourge was finally, (mostly) humanely removed, there was question as to what would happen to the deputized pets. Some were content to be relocated to private quarters or to accepting families on star bases. Boots would  _ not _ be removed. He yowled for eight hours straight when Kelly tried to keep him just in her quarters. To say nothing of what he was using rather than his previously perfectly acceptable litter box. 

Issac even tried to take ownership of the cat, lending him to Dr. Finn's kids to give him more "freedom of movent." Boots was not impressed and even an android has a limit for how long they will tolerate impromptu nighttime operas. 

Boots was there on the bridge, specifically, to stay, he had decided. The crew was more than happy to oblige him, as was Ed, so long as they had a backup plan for any video calls from command. 

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, hello! I haven't written for The Orville before, but I am such a fan of the show that when I saw this prompt I really wanted to give it a try. It came across kinda tell-y instead of show-y but I hope it was still enjoyable! I do so love cats and I thought this would be honestly so hilarious of a concept. 
> 
> Cheers! =^.^=


End file.
